A Season of Love. Kim WattersЧитать онлайн книгу.
was Cameron anyway? She glanced at her watch and her heart sank. School had ended an hour ago. If he didn’t show up in the next few minutes, she’d have to close up the shop and go searching for him again.
The bell above the door jingled. Quickly stuffing the folder under the counter, she stood and plastered on a smile, hoping her customer wouldn’t see the desperation lingering in her eyes. “Welcome to ’Tis Always...” Her words died in her throat as the door shut.
A tall, dark-haired stranger stood behind her son, and the scowl on the man’s face didn’t bode well. Cam had obviously forgotten their numerous talks about stranger danger, even in the small town. But then again, from first impressions, she guessed Cam didn’t have much of a choice. Knots formed in her stomach. This wasn’t a social visit. What had her son done now?
The man’s drab olive military-style coat did little to hide his muscular frame and only accentuated his height. Snowflakes clung to his cropped dark hair and dusted his jacket, but a few hugged his long eyelashes, outlining incredible but unsettling sapphire-blue eyes. His lips had yet to break into a fraction of a smile. She straightened her shoulders, refusing to be intimidated by him as she concentrated on her son.
“Cameron.” She glanced at her watch again. “Where have you been?” Trying to keep the censure from her voice and keep her tone light, she failed miserably. “Thank you for bringing him back, Mr....”
“You’re welcome. It’s Pellegrino. Ethan Pellegrino.” He spoke as if she should recognize his name. His lips formed a straight line and fatigue bracketed his eyes. He took his left hand off her son’s shoulder and put it in his pocket, but not before fisting and then flexing his fingers.
Holly racked her brain but came up empty. She would remember meeting him, although his name did sound vaguely familiar now, as if she’d seen it written down somewhere in the recent past.
“Holly Stanwyck.” Holly had enough manners to jut her hand out. The man didn’t reciprocate. He stared at her outstretched hand and shifted his weight. How rude. Holly let her hand drop back to the counter.
After a few uncomfortable seconds, she picked up a pen and twirled it in her fingers. Glancing past his broad shoulders, she noticed the steady stream of snowflakes increasing outside the front window. More anxiety tightened the knots inside her. If the snow continued, she’d have to drag out the shovel by nightfall and, worse, drive in it. But that was probably going to be the least of her worries. What had Cameron done now that this Ethan Pellegrino had to bring him to the shop?
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Pellegrino.” I think. She glanced at the frown hugging her son’s lips. “What’s going on?” Her words added another layer to the growing tension. Uneasy, she walked to the other side of the counter, put her arm around her son and pulled him to her. At the man’s immobile expression, her nerves threatened to dislodge the glass of water she’d drunk earlier.
“Your son should tell you.”
“Cameron?” Her son pulled away, hung his head and then kicked at an imaginary spot on the floor. “What have you been up to?” She clipped her words and tried to remain unemotional, but failed. Cameron had been getting into trouble a lot lately.
Who was this stranger residing in her son’s body? He looked the same with his unruly dark blond hair and blue eyes, but his attitude had gone south. She needed to get a handle on it because in the next year or so, he’d be taller than she’d be. And more opinionated and more uncontrollable. The pen in her hand bent under the pressure.
“I took the long way here.”
She ground her teeth as a scowl twisted Cam’s lips. “With Patrick?”
“Why do you care who I walk with?”
Her son’s new friend was bad news, but the more Holly brought that fact up, the more Cameron hung out with him instead of his other friends. Her grip tightened. She’d lost Jared two years earlier, and she was going to lose the store in a few months if things didn’t improve. She couldn’t lose Cameron, as well. “I care because I love you.”
Her son’s scowl deepened and he moved away when she tried to push his bangs from his eyes. “I don’t see why you won’t let me take the bus home after school. Everyone else does.”
Holly sighed, refraining from the age-old saying of asking if everyone jumped off a bridge, would he follow? “Because I’m not there, I’m here, and you didn’t want to go to the YMCA. And now there’s apparently a good reason you’re to come here, that’s why.”
“The YMCA is for babies. Why did Dad have to die?” Cam threw his backpack down and crossed his arms over his chest. “If he were alive, you’d be at home like Matt’s or Tyler’s mom.”
At least she understood where the anger came from now. Communicating with her son lately had been harder than talking to the accounts-receivable people trying to collect on her past-due invoices. “Cam—I...”
Ethan Pellegrino shifted his weight, reminding Holly they weren’t alone. Her shoulders sagged. Now was not the time to have a heart-to-heart talk with her son about the fact that even if his father were alive, she’d still work outside the home as she’d always done. She had no choice now, and once she faced the reality that the store would be going out of business soon, she’d have to find another job to pay her bills. She’d been a bookkeeper before and could do it again, but she’d deal with that later. “What were you doing that Mr. Pellegrino felt compelled to bring you here?”
“Patrick and I were having some fun.”
“Fun?” Holly sank against the counter and rubbed her forehead. Her shoulder muscles tightened, creating an instant headache. “You know I don’t want you hanging around him. Thanks for bringing him to me, Mr. Pellegrino. I can take it from here.”
The man crossed his arms, pursed his lips and glowered at her son. “Not until I hear him utter the truth about where he was and what he was doing.”
“Excuse me?” Holly shoved her hands onto her hips and bit back her anger as she glared at Ethan Pellegrino. Somehow she’d lost control of the situation. “You don’t trust that I can deal with whatever my son has done?”
“It’s not you. It’s him. I doubt he’ll tell you the truth. I’m familiar with teenagers.”
“It’s not like we did much damage,” Cameron shot back.
“Cameron. Show some respect.” Holly corrected her son. “You will not speak to an adult that way no matter what the situation is. Understood?”
Cam nodded and stared at the floor.
“Now, what did Cameron and Patrick do?”
“They spray painted my garage door.” The man scraped his hand through his short hair as his gaze penetrated hers.
Cam had picked the wrong person to mess with.
Bile caught in her throat. Cameron had gone too far this time. The chat with the principal this morning had confirmed her son was heading down the wrong path. Holly felt powerless and overwhelmed by his attitude and change in personality. Inhaling sharply, she fought for control.
She was out of ideas on how to break through the wall Cameron had built around himself lately. Where communication had been easy when he was young, the moment he turned twelve and hormones kicked in, he’d turned inward and quit talking to her other than a few grunts here and there or to ask for money. “You spray painted Mr. Pellegrino’s garage? Why?”
“Because I wanted to.” Underneath all of Cameron’s bravado, Holly sensed him ready to implode. His eyes flashed with anger, hurt and panic, emotions she identified with on a daily basis.
Tagging was a minor offense in Dynamite Creek, Arizona, and usually had some kind of monetary fine—something she couldn’t afford right now. “That’s not a good enough answer. I believe both Mr. Pellegrino and I deserve to know the truth.”
Out of the